


To Ask a Boon

by Lanyare



Series: What's Done Cannot Be Undone [7]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanyare/pseuds/Lanyare
Summary: It really isn't that easy to ask the goddess who governs the natural order of life and death to offer leniency to some liches, but Kravitz has a good reason to give it a try.





	To Ask a Boon

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess I'm not quite as done with this series as I'd thought I was?
> 
> Sort of a prequel to [Some Things Are Meant to Be](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256552) but also partially concurrent to it.

Footsteps echo unevenly against the stone hallway of the Raven Queen's palace as Kravitz makes his way toward the center, fatigue dragging at body and mind and rendering him far more clumsy than usual. It still feels strange, to think that such an enemy had been defeated, the world saved by the efforts of a small group of valiant strangers. Heroes. And one of them…

His steps falter and he hesitates, resting one hand against the cool stone beside him as he pauses to regather himself. The battle had been difficult, and with it coming immediately after he'd been pulled from his struggle against the invader in the Astral Plane, by this time the reaper is running on the dregs of his energy. He knows he could draw on his goddess's strength for assistance, but right now that doesn't seem right; he has something he needs to do, first, acting as _himself_ and not as her vessel.

After a moment to catch his (entirely figurative) breath, he straightens once more, flicks a hand down the front of his suit, resettles the fall of his cloak, then takes a few more steps— and finds himself abruptly standing before a pair of double doors. Before he can think too long about what he's doing, Kravitz reaches out and pushes on one of the doors, and it swings easily open before him without a sound, allowing him entrance.

He steps forward and enters the central chamber of the Raven Queen's domain, a place in which doors and walls do not exist until his mind supplies them; he blinks once and obligingly the place shapes itself into something like a throne room formed of obsidian and black marble, the sourceless light illuminating it glinting off the gem eyes of the flock of carved ravens that make up the central throne. Another step forward and the throne is occupied, a dark figure folding wings that become a feathered cloak much like his own, her eyes glittering impossibly with reflected light from within the shadows cast by her deep cowl.

Kravitz immediately lowers himself to one knee, head bowing before the presence of the goddess herself, relief flooding through him to accompany the reverence. Though he'd felt her presence with him during the fighting, had been reinforced by her power, the anguish of loss he'd felt while trapped alone on the astral plane still burns bright in his memory. To have her here now, before him and undeniably _real_ , is reassuring.

And, he has to admit with a tiny corner of himself, a little terrifying, because of what he has to ask of her.

 _Kravitz_ , her voice echoes in ears and mind and heart, _I commend you for your work this day._ She halts briefly, then a hint of amusement touches her voice as she continues. _Though you did use some...unconventional methods._

Were he mortal Kravitz is certain he would be blushing, but he is glad that she did not take offense to the deal he'd struck with the souls he'd been supposed to be guarding. "I will ensure all of the souls return to the Stockade, my queen," he promises. "Their aid was invaluable, however, and for that I must give them credit."

For a long moment there is only silence within the chamber, and then he hears the faint rustle of feather against feather, feels  the strengthened regard of his goddess like a physical sensation against his skin. _That is not all that you came here to say, though, Kravitz. What is it?_

"I—" All rehearsed phrases and arguments immediately fly out of his mind at her question, anxiety squeezing his chest as Kravitz flounders and scrambles for something to say, some way to begin. He should be practiced with words, and yet now, here, where he cares more about the answer than he has about anything else for centuries, he finds them all abandoning him. "My queen I, I— must ask something of you."

_Speak, then. Ask what you will._

"The, ah. You heard, I presume, the story of the seven travelers? Those who, who fought the Hunger for decades before finally defeating it here?"

 _I did_.

There is nothing in her voice that gives him any indication of what she's thinking— something not at all unusual, yet right now it serves to make Kravitz all the more nervous. "So you know that two of them chose to become liches during their journey, though not, ah, not in the manner, er—"

_**Kravitz**. _

He cuts himself off immediately, daring a brief glance up at her, and winces at the sight of frost slowly creeping across the carvings on her throne.

 _You come to me to request leniency for them. For forgiveness. For_ **_liches_** _._

Kravitz falters at her tone, gaze immediately dropping to the smooth stone of the floor as her physical presence begins to increase, her cloak swelling once more into spreading wings. "I— not, not exactly, my queen, not simple forgiveness, but…"

The air crackles softly as ice continues to form around him, echoing the displeasure of the one who governs this realm. _"But"?_

"Redemption." He blurts out the word and then winces again, expecting her anger to only increase— but instead, there's only silence in response, and a silence more thoughtful than displeased.

 _Redemption_ , she echoes at last, and he sees the frost creeping across the floor halt and begin to recede again, slowly. _What do you propose?_

Kravitz closes his eyes briefly, trying to collect his jumbled thoughts. "Such a circumstance as this is...so rare as to be nearly impossible," he begins, trying to remember the phrases he'd been working to polish on his way here. "They did manage to help save our world from a threat such that no one has ever seen before, and at great cost to themselves. They became liches not out of personal greed or a desire for power, but to save others. Their family. And to do that, they found a way to perform the ritual that required sacrifice only on their part— not that of others."

He pauses briefly, but she says nothing; he has the feeling that she is not only listening, but intrigued, and the temperature of the room is returning to something more like it usually is in her realm. Encouraged, he pushes ahead.

"The fact remains that they are, still, liches, but— what if you were to offer them a choice, that they swear themselves to your service as penance for their crime against the laws of life and death? They are clearly quite capable, and...and there is no true malice in them. I think— I think both sides would benefit from such a deal."

This time when he halts he does not continue, the hand resting on his knee clenching tightly as he awaits her response. Had he a heartbeat it would be racing now, matching the tightness in his chest. She had seemed interested, but is he reading her wrong? Will she react with fury to such a suggestion? Is he going to—

 _You may offer them the choice._ She says nothing else, but he can feel her approval through their connection, a blessing that he may pass on to the pair of liches, if they prove amenable.

Relief swells up, though tempered by exponentially increasing anxiety, and Kravitz inclines his head. "Thank you, my queen. I believe they are likely to accept, and I will—"

_That is not all you wish to ask, is it?_

Fear chokes off his words for a moment, before he finally regains sufficient control of himself to shake his head slowly. "That...I...no." Asking the boon for Lup and Barry was one thing, a preliminary step, and one admittedly not as personally important to him. This, though. This request he almost cannot bear to give voice, lest she refuse it.

He hears the whisper of feathers as the goddess rises from her throne, footsteps echoing against semi-real walls as she moves closer. _Kravitz. Do not fear. Speak._

It is far, far easier said than done, but he cannot refuse her command, not even one so gently given as it is. "It is not just the two of them who became liches, my queen," he says, voice almost soft enough that he cannot hear himself speak, but that fortunately doesn't matter very much to her. "More recently, three of the seven encountered a pair of liches who were...of the kind more traditionally known, who had set up a lair in which they fed off the suffering of those who fell into their grasp. I was able to verify that much, and that they had escaped notice or justice for...for close to a decade, using one of the Relics in combination with their own abilities to mask themselves."

Kravitz does not dare look up, slow down, or do anything that might make him lose what courage allows him to continue, even though he can hear the Raven Queen moving closer to him even as he speaks. "I've been able to find their traces, now that their power has been broken, but— I— during the encounter, one of the three...he used the same ritual that Lup and Barry had developed, years ago, to...to..."

_To make himself a lich as well._

Kravitz closes his eyes, feeling his head bow lower under her regard. "...yes."

For a time he cannot measure there is only silence, the still and perfect silence only attainable in a place such as this, where time and reality follow a pattern set by the goddess who reigns therein. He cannot dare to hope, but cannot imagine what he will do if she refuses him. He, who has served for centuries without a thought of anything else, who has followed her laws without question, now wishes to beg for an exception with no reason other than the desires he had almost forgotten he was capable of having.

Another pair of footsteps break the silence and she is standing directly before him, and he is surprised to feel the cool weight of her hand upon his bowed head. _You ask the same gift for him. Why?_

All his words have left him, all his tricks and clever turns of phrase fled, leaving him alone and vulnerable as he has not felt since entering the service of his goddess. Kravitz hesitates a little longer, then finally whispers, "Because...I love him."

Instead of the rejection he'd half expected, the displeasure or even fury, he can feel a sudden warmth flow through his bond with the Raven Queen. _Oh, Kravitz,_ she almost murmurs, her hands moving to cradle his cheeks, gently lifting his face so that he's looking up toward her once more. Gone is the enveloping cloak that hid her from him, and he sees nothing but gentle affection in her gaze as he meets her eyes. _Kravitz, my faithful servant, my beloved Sorrowsworn. You have asked so little of me for so long, and now so much._

Almost against his will a seed of hope begins to sprout within him, slowly spreading to ease the fear that had half-frozen him in place. She isn't upset with him. She isn't rejecting the request outright. Could it be…

A small smile touches the goddess's mouth, and she slowly leans forward to press cool lips against his forehead. _Go, then. The choice will be given._ She once again rises to her full height, the smile still lingering as she does. _I do not ask you to be without love, Kravitz. You have my blessing._

And with that she is gone, leaving him unsteady and trembling as he stares at the place she had been. The memory of her kiss burns with a cold fire that erodes the fear and anxiety that had filled him up until now, the fragile hope swelling in that absence until it fills him entirely.

Kravitz closes his eyes for a moment, feeling his own smile growing, then summons his scythe to his hand and uses its support to draw himself to his feet again. "Thank you, my queen," he says with all the sincerity he has, knowing she can hear and feel the supreme gratitude behind the words.

And then he turns, his soul singing with his joy as he steps through a ragged tear in the plane to find what Taako's choice will be.

**Author's Note:**

> Bug me over on tumblr as [ramavoite](http://ramavoite.tumblr.com)!


End file.
